


Family Tree

by JunipersHollow (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Big Brothers, Bromance, Brother Feels, Brotherhood, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Child Neglect, Closure, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Little Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JunipersHollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Dirk are brothers who reside in the same household but are distant, and will fight many battles until they can find closure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Tree

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone lives in Texas, I am sure your state is full of plants and I am not saying that its a desert, just in this story it is. :'D

Family Tree

 

The young Strider's eyelids fluttered. Blood gems darting rapidly, searching for the slightest fractal of light that sometimes could be seen in the universal fabric of the dark moon that occupied his dreams. His body shuttered and his mind raced as he was on the verge of waking. Derse's towering monuments were all beginning to blur into a purple haze of geometric shapes and organic beings that grew distorted like ripples in the water. He knew the feeling, he had felt it for every day he was alive. Darker shadows than the dim cast by low-light street lamps on the moon's surface would extend their tentacle hands from the void and swallow Dave in their all encapsulating cocoon. But the blonde was not scared of the shadows. When all had been consumed and the silhouettes of horrifying creatures in the veil could send their malignant touch into the stars no more, a dazzling light would pierce through the ring and banish them to retreat into the void of deep space. Dave would let his lashes fall against his skin and his dream self would be readily enveloped by the light as it forced him back into the consciousness of his original body. His small, triangular nose twitched like an animal's. Then he blinked, and his cracked ceiling stared back at him.  
He adjusted to the temperature immediately. Already, the familiarly overwhelming heat of the Texas sun (in all its blandness during early hours) replaced the chill in his fingernails and his freckled cheeks soaked up the red to oust the blue. Dave Strider had come back to life, but he still felt dead. Only the grizzly sound of chained metal and fused wires could rally him from his grogginess. He awoke to the noises of creation and robotics every morning. It was the only motivator to get up as early as four in the morning instead of continuing to fight imaginary monsters in his mind from the sweat-clobbered depression that was his bed.  
Dave groaned. He sat up abruptly with his spine straight as a pole and rolled lazily off his playing deck-themed comforters and onto the floor, then swiveled his hips clockwise and turned his body toward the table near his bed, reaching out a pale, freckly arm and snatching his bad ass anime shades all pointy and triangulated off the Phat Beat Machine. He slipped them neatly on the bridge of his nose and his black pupils adjusted to a comfortable lighting that was dimmer and more subtle. Dave's lip curled up on one side to form a lopsided smirk. The boy was dancing on his toes and giddy to take a peak at what his older brother was working on downstairs in the workshop. What could it possibly be this time? A portable microwave for Pizza on-the-go, or some sort of time machine that operated on how many sweet burns you could dish out with your seriously sick fires? Dave hoped it was both.  
He made his way through the bedroom that he designed all by himself when his brother and him had moved into their apartment many years ago. He was careful to avoid stepping over any loose apple juice boxes littered shamelessly upon the years-stained carpet, and feared he'd crush one of his brother's rad puppet dolls with his tiny feet. Not really out of respect for his stuff, just that it felt like bad luck to step on one of the itty-bitty guys. They always did creep him out a little, but he never voiced his opinion about it.  
He paused and pondered for a moment before embarking on a miniature Odyssey down the staircase whether to examine the posters on his walls, but thought better of it because beholding his room in all its glory would take hours at best which was very time consuming, to say the least. Children his age didn't have the kind of patience for intermissions like that.  
Dave took a step into foreign territory out in the hallway that connected his room to the stairs and the rest of the abnormally large flat. He shuffled in his black shorts with the waistband of his boxers showing and white tank top with his signature broken disk in red and black symbolism down the stairs, beginning his daily bunny hop over certain steps and skipping some that he knowingly memorized would creak. He had done this trek countless times to make any errors and risk being caught right at the start. Striders make no mistakes.  
His feet landed firmly within a few inches radius of his brother's storage and work place. A collaboration of scraping metallic and burning wood overcame the young Strider's senses and heightened his curiosity. Dave has never been allowed to stand fully inside of the room, which made it all the more mysterious and inviting to him. One day he would get to see it. All of it.  
Maybe that day was today.  
Slowly, Dave crept onto the balls of his knees and crawled on his hands and feet toward his brother's private space. As he edged closer, exhilaration welled up inside of him at the sight of a tiny bit of light shooting through the doorway. Yes, there seemed to be a crack. Dave didn't believe in miracles, but if the door turned out to be unlocked then sign him up for a religious swap over to the the dark carnival!  
Soon he was facing the only thing that stood between him discovering the elder Strider's most guarded and well kept secrets that were withheld from his own kin. Soon. So close was his hand to the knob now. Gently push on the wood and see what your own brother has been hiding from you all these years.  
In an instant, the lights went out. Dave's fingers were just barely touching the cold door knocker before he was covered in pitch black like before. The sun was still hanging low in the horizon and there were no rays shining through the windows to let there be light.  
Something darted past him.  
The blur of a silhouette in white and orange was but a glimpse masked in shadow. A figure lone in the dark. Dave knew it before it was too late, but could do nothing to stop it.  
The trap door sprung open and several plush puppet rumps fell from the spring release, stacked one on top of the other as Dave was helplessly flattened beneath them. They surrounded him now. He couldn't see a thing and all he could hear and smell was fresh puppet ass all up in his face. Everywhere he went puppets, puppets, and more puppets. They even snuck into his dreams. Dave would awake in a cold sweat just to find himself laying beside the ring leader of the lifeless dolls: Lil' Cal.  
He wasn't as lifeless as he seemed, and Dave could swear he heard the bite-sized taunting that burst with bubbles of ill-boded chuckles accompanying his caretaker's own apathetic speech. Through teeny holes in the mosh pit Dave could vaguely see the light flicker back on. He was trying so hard not to scream and ended up hyperventilating instead.  
He tried to bring clarity to his mind, assuring himself that he was totally covered in the coolest shit anyone knew what to do with. His brother was only smothering him in soft cotton booty as an act of caring. Not some kind of passive aggressiveness that ran in the family or some semi-abusive parenting method. His brother cared.  
Dave knew he was going to die a young death if he didn't bust out of there. Rest assured he'd still be buried in these dolls when he was dropped into the grave, the tears of his brother falling on his coffin as it plummeted into the Earth forever and ever. And the last thing the poor soul would glimpse before heading into oblivion was the glassy eyes of Lil' Cal as he grinned grimly and gave a satanic laugh.  
That is not how Dave strides.  
He summoned all the strength he could muster from countless sword battles and strife up on the roof and jail-broke out of the nightmarish obsession of his brother with a deafening cry. He sent fuzzy bottoms soaring in all directions till there was nothing standing in between his relative and he. It was mano y mano.  
They stared each other down through equally muddied spectacles, Dirk's face was perfectly insensitive and bared no emotion whatsoever. Dave could hide his eyes all he wanted, but it was trickier keeping his mouth squeezed into a thin line like the older Strider did so well. He still had much to learn.  
"Bro. What. The. Fuck," Dave growled through tight lips and glared at the taller blonde, straight through his shades to the fiery sunset below. Dirk's hair was sculpted by hand as if he were god forming mountains with only the tips of his fingers, the spikes didn't move an inch when he spoke back with an inconsiderable tone and his movement was slow and flurry. Dave knew Dirk was only biding his time.  
"I always see you coming. You can't hide from me, Dave." And Dave knew it was true. Dirk's eyes saw all. The shades were only for looks and regality that were pretty unnecessary but escalated the aura of mystery and unknown that encompassed his brother. It was a protector of weak sentiments and replaced the face with a cool, ridged complexion. It made its owner ever so unpredictable. You couldn't guess what the Strider doublet was thinking.  
"I was just checking out the workshop. Damn thing wakes me up every morning, ya' know? You could try keepin' it quiet when I'm getting my beauty sleep, being this fab isn't something that comes naturally. Dave Need his beauty sleep, bro." Dave tried to keep an evenly tone with all the apathy and lack of responsibility his brother represented, but there was a clear cut strain that came with the words that left his throat. A bead of sweat ran down his temple and he hoped Dirk didn't catch the slight annoyance in his voice, though he guessed it was inevitable.  
"Off limits. I told you that from day one," Dirk responded flatly. Dave never really understood WHY he wasn't allowed inside, and the blatant fact that Dirk never gave him a good explanation was just another reason to resent him almost completely. He knew that if they got into a strife his bro would kick his butt, and if he were to monologue his way out of it it would be pointless to even try because his brother was rarely one to speak anyways. His best option would be to abscond. Although Dave wasn't one to back down, sometimes good fights had to be let go. Bro had his wicked Katana in one hand, restlessly tapping his foot as he guessed his younger kid-brother would try to make a move on him, and so already took a step forward into Dave's personal space. Looks like Dave didn't have a choice whether he would be dueling or not, his brother had already decided for him.  
Lil Cal's flimsy body flopped about on Dirk's back but clung to him tightly and surprisingly didn't fall off as his owner sprung from his post and brandished his weapon. Dave had sidestepped him by then and made a complete circle around his brother, adding more tension to the strife. Dave had nothing to parry against Dirk's impending blade, Dirk struck with quick slices that slashed the air while Dave hopped about trying to escape his brother's hacking. They chased each other round the living room, jumping up on furniture and running across couch cushions like animals hunting one another; Dirk the hound and Dave the fox.  
Dave put a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh, he thought it so funny that Dirk and him would always get into fights that ended up becoming a game of tag. His brother rarely played games with him. This was about the closest thing to bonding he could get from his counterpart.  
As his laughter spun out of control he lost his footing and tripped on a carpet made of some sort of animal fur. He cursed and tried to scurry away as there was too little time to linger, for a flash of silver lightning came close to impaling him but missed only slightly, cutting off a piece of his hair. Dave hissed at how close the blade had come to chopping off his ear, but couldn't lament for the blonde strands mangled aimlessly on the floor; Dirk was advancing.  
Dave commanded his childish brain filled with rhymes and Doritos to think. His mind raced faster than his legs could run, and then the idea popped into his head. He needed elevation.  
Dave lured his brother toward the back of the apartment to the stairs again, taunting him with gestures most eleven year olds would be shoved with a mouthful of bar soap if their mothers ever caught them doing what he did. He took cautious yet practiced steps backward up the staircase which took some mad skills, but his shorter legs took half a second more to climb them than his brother's longer and farther reaching strides. A few ticks more and Dave was at the top, but there wasn't a happy victory dance that could be held yet. Not until Dirk was on the other side of the continent would he be safe. The young Strider rounded the hall and knocked a photo off the wall that captured his brother and him sitting on the roof giving the camera stern looks with ice cream dripping down their chins, it almost felt like irony or just plain joke material. John would never see that photo.  
Dave was bummed he hadn't worn any socks to bed, else he would be sliding across the oak and eventually gotten closer to his pinpoint destination with a few more seconds to prepare. But had he known that it would mean Dave had future vision, which he knew fully well he did not. If only time travel was a thing.  
A few more paces and Dave arrived at the end of the hall, flinging himself through the doorway of his customized bedroom. He could hear Dirk's shoes clattering against the wood and getting infinitely louder. The next step had to be put into action or Dave was gonna be Strider-Fried. He zigzagged around plushies and juice boxes, arriving at the window sill. His brother would surely be on top of him any moment now.  
No. Dave could not give into fear. He needed to stay chill and focus on the mission. The young Strider placed his hands upon the rubbery part of the window and began to lift the glass with his kid biceps. The sill lifted easily in his hands, and soon the hot Texas air blew into his face from outside. He squinted his eyes just as the sun began to rise into the sky. Dave leaned his body across the window and hovered over the edge. The danger of having his torso be halfway ten feet above the grounded hardly fazed him. He tilted his chin downward and glimpsed something that he had attached to the outer wall of the building. His hands began to untangle the soft yet sturdy fabric and Dave was sure he had it, but jumped in his skin and almost dropped the thing as he heard his brother loudly enter the room. With little time left to spare, he tossed the chain of socks into the atmosphere sending them spiraling into the dirt below. He grabbed hold and flung himself over the edge just as his brother reached out to snatch him by the collar of his shirt. The escapee was smacked onto the building and immediately planted his feet on its surface. Then he began to climb downward.  
Gravity was a constant burden on his body, but the adrenaline pumping through the blood in his muscles was enough to keep him from completely letting go and falling to his pitiful death, as well as his damned strong will. The socks had been tied tightly enough to hold his own weight and the rough outer wall had chunks of bricks popping out that he used as step holds. Dave had no trouble in getting down, the only problem was Dirk. Just seconds after he had started to climb, the chain began to shake. Dave felt it jiggle in his grip, and immediately looked up to see his brother cutting the makeshift rope with his Katana.  
Too late, Dirk had severed his only lifeline. The chain slipped from his fingertips and the world rushed into the skylight, everything was on fast forward and though this felt the same as departing from Derse, he would probably not be waking up this time. Above him, a fowl whizzed by leaving black and purple feathers in its absence. Was that it then? The last thing Dave would ever see before he died, a crow?  
Dammit, Dave hated crows. Black inevitability spread its wings, but it didn't drop him, it wrapped him in its embrace like the arms of a mother he never had. Dave realized, he never had a choice in this at all. If this was his fate, then so be it.  
But the few feet left for him to fall were much closer than he initially thought. Some serendipitous fate was in store for him. Dave caught himself mid-flight just as his body was about to hit the concrete, and he curled up in a ball and rolled onto the grass below, ripping up strips of golden hairs from beneath him. He was still alive; and that was fucking amazing.  
Dave recovered from the excitement and jerked forward off the grass and onto his feet once again. The loud thumping in his core resonated through Dave's body to his ears, it sounded like a hammer. Thump thump.  
Crash! Something had hit rock bottom behind him. He whipped around to see his caretaker slowly rising from the dirt, unfazed and brushing off his knees, then glaring up with anger and intent and giving Dave a look that said all too well; "I'm coming for you."  
Dave booked it. Bolted from the spot to the one place he knew was his last chance for survival. The Big Ass Tree.  
Where Dave was from, buildings dominated the surrounding area. Nature was something that was sold in a bottle. Don't ask him why he ever wanted to live there, it was never something he could decide for himself. Just like who he would have be stuck with for thirteen years of his life.  
But there was one, just one tree. And holy shit was it huge. The trunk was thick and round like a dinner table. Its bark; ebony with streaks of white where the tree had died. Its length stretched to the heavens, poking the crust of every star out there. Nobody had the guts to tear it down. Until the day nature decided to take it back, its age would be forever in question.  
Dave took a few turns across musky alleyways and dodged cars in the streets, raging horns blaring in the background which he paid no attention to. Stakes were much too high. Distraction was a death sentence.  
When the tree's reaching hands of brown and evergreen and sage fingertips appeared upon the horizon, Dave's heart soared. He paced farther, gaining the ultimate speed he needed to out-run his brother. Ha! Take that! Dirk, you are no match for Dave's tiny legs!  
There wasn't a whole lot of time taken to cross the park and finally stand beneath the tree's massive canopy. A natural umbrella. Dave, out of breath but still running on adrenaline stuck a bare foot onto the bottom of the truck. He wrapped his arms around it like he was giving it all his love, and with a big tree hug, ascended its trunk to the metaphorical heavens. Half a minute passed and Dave was a quarter of the way there. Beneath the leaves the air was much cooler, and Dave almost felt gratitude for the tree's fat ass having been planted in the first place. He'd have to pay respects to it later, if he managed to survive. Like himself, Dirk was not one to take defeat lightly.  
Aping his way up the tree reminded Dave of how humans were once much more primitive and keen to their desires. Living in tribes and what-not. Perhaps Dave could build a house at the top and make a living there, like humans used to. If his primal ancestors could survive all by themselves in the jungle, why couldn't he? Would the airport sell a kid a ticket to Africa? Pretty awesome if they did.  
Remember the part about distractions being deadly? Oh, the story itself has distracted the reader from such a vital point. It is all thanks to Dave's brain monologuing that both he and the reader will be taken surprised by none other than the antagonist himself: Di-Stri.  
Dave felt him before he saw his guardian already at the bottom of the tree and steadily following after him. He had been in too much of a hurry to turn his head and check that the elder Strider was not hot on his trail. Luckily, Dave was inching closer to end, and when he reached the higher branches and threw himself atop the strongest of them, casting his shades at his brother who was far down below gave him a sense that he might actually be winning.  
But a voice stopped him right in his tracks. Dirk was shouting: "You get your ass down here, lil' man!"  
Oh, now he wants to start the conversation?  
"Sure! Let me just take a second to hand it to you!" Dave cupped a hand to his mouth and retorted with bitter sarcasm. Anger was gushing from the caverns of his core, screaming their way out of his throat. He had to fight back the will to confront it, the years-worth of pain and neglect that was a stream he feared to cross. His hands wanted to lash out; he squeezed tightly till the skin of his palm bled from his fingernails. He wanted to speak his mind; his bottom row of teeth pinched at his tongue and his spit tasted rusty. It was like his ability to say what he really feels has been broken. How did that happen? Who's fault was it?  
Everything is Dirk's fault. Dirk taught Dave emotions are dumb, handed him a pair of shades and said, "Here, make yourself even more miserable on the inside when no one understands you and be marveled at on the outside! That's how I got through life!"  
How could Dirk ever know what Dave needed to get through life? He can't. Because he simply, and truly just does not care.  
"Dave middle name I never decided on Strider, I'm coming up there whether your ass is ready to be handed over to me or not." Dirk was now half way up the tree, sweat dripped from his forehead to his chin and the shades were perfectly still on his face, typical. He loved nothing more than the shades, after all.  
"Like my guys on the internet say, Come at me, bro!" Dave said the meme and didn't regret a thing, much to the groaning of the audience's dismay. It felt good to have the advantage. But did he really?  
Dirk continued climbing. Dave panicked, jumping onto other tree limbs like steps, praying to Bilious Slick he wouldn't fall again. He couldn't slip away fast enough, Dirk scrambled up the last of the tree and stood upright in front of him. His lean body towered over Dave's, chest heaving in and out from the physical activity. Dave was unsure what to do. Dirk looked the most inflamed he'd ever seen him, his lips were no longer flat but pursed, he bared his teeth and his nose wrinkled impatiently. As Dirk stepped forward, Dave took a step back. Then another.  
"Alright, you caught me. Take me away, Officer Strider. My hands are all out in the open ready to be hand-cuffed, but I'll have you know I've got a hell of a lawyer." Dave was spewing out monologue nonsense, like it could save him now. He lacked a filter from day one, this sass was going to get his ass whooped. The shade emanating from the branches suddenly lacked effect as the tension in the air spiked hotter than the Texas sun could bloom. Dirk was still refusing to speak. Dave hated that. It was Dirk's passive-aggressive way of saying he didn't want to talk it out with him. He would stay silent and remind Dave with every second that it was useless. Useless to talk. Useless to try to get through to his older brother. A completely hopeless, pointless endeavor.  
Dave ran a finger through his hair, he was twisting inside like a snake, red in the face and blue in the heart. He knew it now, more than ever. He didn't expect it to hurt, he didn't believe the numbness would fade and true feelings would emerge.  
Dave wouldn't care.  
Dirk didn't care.  
And Dirk didn't love Dave.  
So Dave wouldn't love him either.  
The coil snapped. "Oh, Officer Strider, before you take me away to the slammer, catch this!" And Dave ripped the shades off his face and thrust his hand into the air, letting his grip on the lenses loosen and dropping them before Dirk's eyes. Dirk stuck an arm out and grabbed the shades he had given to his brother many years ago as a gift, but they were one second farther down and he grasped at nothing. Dave squinted through the light at his brother turned with his back to him. The older Strider held a tight fist, and slowly unraveled the fingers encasing the palm of his hand, revealing only thin air.  
Dave's breathing stopped short as his brother turned. He felt so naked without the protection of his mask, his skin was a ghostly white.  
"Bro." He breathed. Dirk approached Dave with a hand raised. Dave knew what was coming, and moved his cheek to the side, squeezing his lids tightly shut. It wasn't fair. This life wasn't fair. Bro was terrible. Bro was a monster. _A monster._ Nothing. Why wasn't there any pain? Dave hesitantly opened his eyes to glimpse something never before seen by his rubric orbs; the spiffing image of Dirk removing his shades. His brother slipped the triangular lenses on the collar of shirt, and let Dave look into the mirrors of his soul. A sharp orange, colors of the setting sun. They were big and beautiful. But there was a layer of seriousness and an even deeper layer of weakness submerged in those intense hues. Dave stared at Dirk's entire face, and began to feel self conscious. He wasn't invisible anymore. Neither of them were. What should he do now?  
Dirk kneeled down a bit and place his hands gently on Dave's brittle shoulders, Dave flinched. His brows were kneaded and eyes wide and attentive to the smallest details in  
his brother's face. A reflection of him. Dirk awkwardly wrapped his arms around Dave and pulled him into his chest. Hushed, but still audible words spoke into the young Strider's ears.  
_He said I'm sorry. You don't need to forgive me. I'm not giving you the best upbringing, am I? Shit food, shit apartment. Shit brother. You deserve better than that. We've been playing these avoidance games for too long, mainly me. I thought I could straighten you out and wring you out of the soft stuff like some sort of rag. Thinking... I could save you. Boys who get balls don't get hurt, right? What a joke. I've lost you._ Dave listened restlessly to his brother's confession. There were so many things he wanted to do. Cry. Laugh. Get angry and just let it all out in one giant fit. Everything felt warm but the tears sliding down his cheek, bitter tears. Happy tears. Tears that were relief and sorrow and so many other sentiments he couldn't name. But for the first time ever... Dave didn't have a response.  
_I forgive him._ The voice in the back of his head told him it was time. Dave's hesitant arms felt their way to Dirk's waist and lower back, and the two brothers stood there in that tree. Embracing each other in their arms like it was the first time and the last time they would ever hug. A stronger warmth blossomed inside of Dave's chest. This is what he needed. Cherishment.  
With his face nuzzled in Dirk's shirt, Dave cried silently. He let the tears roll down in short streams that stuck to the elder Strider's tee, but he didn't mind if his shirt got a little wet; he was crying too.  
Neither wanted to let go, so Dave and Dirk stayed with one another for as long as they were able. Eventually, Dave felt comfortable enough to withdraw first, his cheeks were a rubric color and eyes puffy. Dave wiped away the snot running down his nose and let his brother smooth away the few stray tear drops collecting at the corners of his eyes. Dirk let his hand linger there on the young Strider's cheek. His smile was refreshing and genuine more than Dave had ever seen. He had always thought his brother was incapable of making any expressions of intense emotion or glee. He was wrong. In fact, Dave was wrong about a lot of things. His brother simply, and truly did care. And Dirk did love him.  
"So, wanna get the hell out of here? I'll carry you like a princess." Dirk's lips were broad and formed an assertory smirk. Dave gazed up at his brother with endearment in his red bulbs, looked deep into his orange irises and replied:  
"This is stupid."

**Author's Note:**

> I have to tell you how proud I am of this piece. It took me many weeks to write and now I have finally finished and can post my first ever Homestuck fanfiction! Yay! This was a lot of fun to write, but I must say throughout the time I was working on this I couldn't help but feel that the story was writing itself! The ending came out so much differently than what I had originally planned. The length was to be much shorter, and there wasn't even supposed to be Stridercest subtext but somehow it happened anyway! I'm very happy with how it turned out though. I hope you all had as much fun reading this as I had writing it, more are to come.  
> Fanatically yours,  
> Juniper


End file.
